Dissolve
by IMakeBelieve
Summary: Naia has a gift, and the demons need her to fight a battle against the vampires. The vampires need her to fight against the demons. She must choose between her life, and her love for the people on both sides of the war.


**A/N::** I don't own the Twilight Saga characters, they are the property of S. Meyer. Also, things are changing. Yes, these _are_ the characters from the saga but my story [otherwise] has nothing to do with the plots of the books. All I'm doing is taking a few of her characters and making my own story. They do _not_ sparkle, and their physiology, needs, etc have also changed. The actual series kinda pisses me off, but bear with me, ok? And _criticism_ is wanted and welcomed.

CHAPTER ONE: SHADOWS

The night exceeded warmth. It was stifling, the humidity pressing against Naia's sweat-drenched body. She stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, her brown eyes following the slow movements of the ceiling fan. Swallowing hard on the lump in her throat, she let her eyes drift to the alarm clock on her dresser. Red numbers glared against the darkness of her room, signaling that it was just ten minutes passed two o'clock in the morning.

Throwing back the thin, soft blue sheet that covered her body, she let her legs drop over the side of the full sized bed that made up the majority of her bedroom, and the bottoms of her feet hit the cool hardwood floors. Naia padded the short way from her bed to the window and pushed back the white lace curtains.

The light of the heavy, half moon cast a pale light across the earth, dancing across her honey colored skin and making the corners of her lips turn up slightly in a pleased smile.

"Why you standing at the window?" The voice was drawling, masculine, and carried a trace of an accent that she couldn't determine. "Those skeetas like sweet things, Miss Naia."

Naia turned her head, her dark brown curls blocking her sight. "Elijah," she greeted with a yawn, turning completely to stare at the man leaning against her closet. As he lifted his hand to remove the dark gray fedora, his form flickered and he reappeared directly in front of her. He smiled slowly, playfully, his white teeth in stark but pleasant contrast to his smooth, dark skin.

"I thought we agreed you ain't supposed to come into my room." Naia could smell the scent of the earth and of something sweet in the air where Elijah's spirit stood. Part of her imagined he was real, but the more dominant part knew better, no matter how real he seemed and felt.

He shrugged his broad shoulders with false innocence and plucked one of the curls that framed Naia's face. It bounced back into place as soon as his fingers left it, and she shivered. "It's been awhile since you called on me – on any of us really. Some of them say it's 'cause you scared or something."

"Mama doesn't like what I do, she says it's the Devil's work." Naia lifted her hand as if to place it on his chest. If she concentrated, it was almost as if she could feel the crispness of his white button-up, the texture of his vest. "I hate that I can't touch you."

Elijah smiled again, a beaming smile that showcased his dimples. The palm of his hand rested against her cheek, cooling her body. "I can touch you, though, whenever you want," he paused, "wherever." His hand moved to her waist, moving his fingertips across the exposed part of her lower torso.

Even with the wealth of knowledge her grandfather had passed onto her, she didn't see the fairness or possibility that it only worked one way. Naia inhaled deeply. "You don't come just to seduce me," she said, taking a step back and lying back on her bed, "so what is it you – or the others – want?"

Elijah watched Naia, the innocence on her face as she rested her head against one of the many pillows, the curve of her body against the mattress. She was perfectly at ease, and ever since her family had moved into the old house, she'd only been that way twice. "It's nothing," he lied, moving to stand at the side of the bed. "I'll let you get some sleep, Naia." He made to turn and put his hat on, his form flickering again as he did so.

"Wait, 'Lijah," Naia whispered, one arm stretched out against the mattress, palm up, "I missed you. Why don't you lay with me for awhile?"

Elijah concentrated on pulling the energy around him so that he could grab her hand and lay next to her. He turned on his side, resting his hat on his thigh and one hand on top of Naia's smaller ones. "Go to sleep, my Naia, and I will be here when you wake."

Naia smiled, her heavy lids drooping repeatedly before finally closing. Elijah laid there for what felt like forever, his eyes closed even though sleep was only a memory. The sound of her steady heart beat was almost as if it were his own pulse.

A hissing voice hit his ears and he flinched as his concentration slipped and he hovered above the mattress. Naia shifted in her sleep and he stood, looking up at the shadow at the corner of Naia's room. It moved forward like smoke, a harsh voice ringing out. "You don't listen!," it hissed, "We have more important things to be worryin' about than her _heart_. Corine wants-"

Elijah's handsome face twisted, became cold, and his dark brown eyes turned colorless, "I know what she wants. The only way I'm going to let Naia get involved in our mess is if Corine can guarantee she won't be harmed."

The shadow began to solidify, becoming the towering form of a dark skinned woman appearing to be near thirty years old. Though her face was lined with age, she managed to be beautiful in a hard sort of way. Her hair was cut short and her eyes were a black and endless. She regarded him with a look of disdain. "You think you're something special, don't you? Fooling around with these pathetic _children_ while the rest of us struggle to survive." Her lips curled over her teeth. "Those – those _vampires_ are moving in on our territory and we need as many of her kind," - she jerked her chin in Naia's direction - "as we can get."

He looked at Laeto, a pit growing inside of him. It was the truth. They needed Naia more than they needed anything else. "Fine," he ceded, "but we had better win."

If not, Naia would die.


End file.
